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LEAVES OF LIFE 




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LEAVES OF LIFE 



BY 
SAMUEL HARLEY LYLE JR. 



ATHENS, GA. 

THE McGregor co. 

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JIJN 1 1§1« 



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To 
E. L. J. 

WHO HAS EVER PROVEN A TRUE FRIEND 



Day by day we add them, these Leaves of Life, to 
the great Book of Time. Let us endeavor to make 
each day's leaf a clean one, free of blotch or smear. 
If there be grief and failure let us trace it plainly, 
without fear or shame ; if there be joy and success let 
it stand forth in all its glory, shorn of pride or false 
modesty. That which we do is ours, so let us strive 
to do it well, fearing neither man nor God; and at 
the end, when the final score is marked in the great 
Book of Time, we may look upon our work, and say 
simply, "It is ours." 



CONTENTS 

PAGE. 

The Eternal Paradox 13 

Morn And Eve 14 

Judgment of Men 15 

The Coming of the Shadow 16 

A Rose 18 

To E— L— J— 19 

Le Eoi Est Mort— Vive Le Roi 20 

A Memory 21 

To The Woman of My Dreams 22 

Margaret 24 

Long Years From Now 2^5 

Life 26 

Angodea 27 

Recompense 28 

An Old Letter 29 

Aftermath 30 

Death 31 

A Song By The Sea 32 

The Beacon 33 

The Silent Watches * 34 

To One Who Sings 35 

Moon-Mad 36 

The Eyes of The World 37 



CONTENTS-Continacd 

PAGE. 

Heart's Rue 64 

The Play God 65 

The Quest 66 

The Retrospective Hour 67 

Hearts And Flowers 69 

Forget Thee 70 

Shady Vale 71 

A Question 73 

The Eternity Moments 74 

Remembrance 75 

To Juelle 76 

Christi Mundi 77 

The Prayer Of The Vanquished 78 

Dear Heart You Know 79 

The Tramp 80 

Adrienne 81 

A Painted Picture 82 

The Summer Girl 83 

The Breaking Of A Heart 84 

Wormwood 86 

A Modern Knight-Errant 87 

The Tale I Long To Tell 88 

The Ultimate Peace 89 

L'Envoi . 90 



CONTENTS— Continued 

PAGE. 

Forsaken 39 

A La Francaise 40 

Roses 41 

The Cottage By The Bay 42 

Song Of The American 43 

To A Lady 44 

To D— Y/— 45 

The Song of The Buccaneer 46 

The Mistress 47 

Tired 49 

Then 50 

To S— F— B— 51 

When I Am Dead 52 

Yesterday 53 

Echoes 54 

Good-Bye 55 

The Song Of The Sea 56 

Her Last Letter 57 

Katherine 58 

Spurned Love 59 

A Song Of Autumn 60 

Since Nancy And I Fell Out 61 

Porta Mortis 62 



THE ETERNAL PARADOX 

He knew the grief that racks the soul. 
He wandered where the hills are bare, 
And to the cold, bright stars each night 
Rose from his lips an anguished prayer. 

'Twas then he sang of summer streams, 
Of scenes far moved from pain or strife ; 
And men gave heed, and smiled, and said 
*'This man has found but joy in life." 



13 



MORN AND EVE 

Eippling streams and song of birds, 
And crimson with the gray ; 

The mom bursts bright in the sun 's first light- 
Little girl, good-day! 

Evening calm and low of kine, 

And the flash of a swallow 's flight ; 

Whispering breeze in the twilight trees — 
Little girl, good-night! 



14 



JUDGMENT OF MEN 

She sits beside a foaming stream, 

Where waters seethe and boil, 
Her clothes are soiled, and torn, and mean, 

Her hands are worn with toil ; 
Deep in her eyes there burns a fire, — 

A soul-destroying flame — 
She men once called the heart 's desire, 

And now they scorn her name. 

Rose lights glow o 'er the brilliant scene, 

Soft music fills the air ; 
Secure behind convention's screen 

He, the man, stands there; 
Bright eyes are fixed upon his face. 

Low voices speak his name. 
Gracious, he smiles; and every place 

Whispers his honored fame. 



15 



THE COMING OF THE SHADOW 

I feel it coming as a snake, this fate 
Of mine. Oft in the day, when over all 
The world the sun shines bright and nature seems 
To sing with joy, it comes upon me, this 
Grim blackness gripping close my seeing eyes. 
And blotting out in swirling fire the world 
Around. I stand alone and groping in 
The silent night — a night to none but me, — 
And Avondering with dread if it will all 
Come back again, the day, the light, the life 
That has so swiftly gone. At last it comes, 
And each time longer in the waiting than 
Before. A glimmer first and then the light 
Drifts slowly back to my tired eyes ; yet with 
A weakening of vision that is slow, 
Though cruel and remorseless as the march 
Of Time. 

And oft I sit beside my lamp, 
A book upon my knee, my mind intent 
Alone upon that which I read. My eyes 
Grow tired, and something seems to snap within 
My brain, the pages blur and fade before 
My si^ht, the room grows dark ; I place my hand 
Upon the book to feel if it may still 
Be there. Sometimes it seems that hours have passed 
Before again the light comes back and all 
Is as it was. 

16 



The joy in life is free 
And full, the sun shines warm and bright and birds 
Sing merrily, when one is young. I gaze 
Into the faces of those whom I love. 
And wonder how this world would seem without 
That sight God gave me at my birth ; and now 
He takes that which He gave. 

There is a choice, 
The swift, releasing hand of death, or else 
The black and silent days of those who tread. 
Forever blind, the road of life. But one 
To choose, a living or a dying death ! 
God steel my heart to quail not at the choice. 



17 



A ROSE 

'Twas only the bud of a red June rose 

That grew in a garden fair, 
Deep hid in a quiet and sunny nook, 

Breathing the perfumed air. 

I plucked the bud — ah, ruthless man! — 

And placed it in a vase ; 
And there in softest tints it bloomed — 

So once did bloom her face. 

But the rose did fade, and my heart was sore 
For the deed of my thoughtless hand. 

Even so she faded years age 
And now I understand. 



18 



TO E— L- J- 

A clear, bright smile, 

A firm, warm hand, 
And a heart that's tried and true ; 
Others have turned aside in passing, 
And sneered — but never you. 

When life seemed guile, 

And to understand 
Was but to wish the end. 
And foes on every side were massing, 
I have found you always — a friend, 



19 



LE ROI EST MORT— VIVE LE ROI 

"Here, page, your aid; assist to spread 

This crepe across the bier, 
And bid, pray, since the King is dead. 

Good Father Ambrose here. ' ' 

He who spoke the words stood quiet 

A moment by the fallen head. 
Then turned, and went to say the news 

Throughout the streets, ''The King is dead!" 

The Father came with eyes down bent, 
An hour he knelt and prayed apace ; 

He, too, then rose and went his way, 
No tear of sorrow on his face. 

I stood alone beside the corpse; 

Two voices stopped before the door. 
"Dead!" I heard the muttered word, 

And then, ' ' Thank God his tyranny 's o 'er ! " 

There grew a murmur from the court. 

And came a distant trumpet ring, — 

The Prince returning from his hunt, — 

Then one great shout, "God save the King!" 



20 



A MEMORY 

Night silence and the fall of rain 

About my dwelling place, 
And in my heart the old, old pain 

Of dreaming of thy face. 

And in the dark I hear a voice, 

In accents soft and low. 
Singing again the old, old songs 

You sang so long ago. 

A gentle hand upon my brow, 

A shadow by my side ; 
But my heart will never again beat now 

As it beat before you died. 



21 



TO THE WOMAN OF MY DREAMS 

Not you may know nor I, and yet somewhere, 
Far out in this great world of ours, a heart 
Beats wistfully, longing for what it does 
Not know nor understand, but conscious of 
The dull, deep hurt, the aching void, and with 
It all the question and the haunting pain 
That knows no heal. 

The little brook caught in 
Between the mountain walls creeps on, nor knows 
The glory of the flaming sun on God's 
Green fields that spread away below, and yet 
Below there waits the song of birds, the dash 
Of foaming rapids, the calm, smooth river flow, 
^'^jid then, at last, the open, sun-kissed breadth 
Of all the boundless sea. It knows not these. 
The little stream caught in the mountain wilds, 
Yet in its course there is no pause until 
It glides into the endless freedom of 
The ocean plain. 

In God's great calendar 
Of days, spread out through the expanse of all 
Eternity, there is one day that stands 
Apart from all the rest; in all the breadth 
Of this great earth there is one spot, somewhere. 



22 



Where flowers bloom and blow through all the land, 

Where birds are but the minstrels of 

The human heart, where skies are bluer than 

The blue of Venus' eye, where days but end 

To bring the beauty of the moonlit nights, 

And lightly as the blowing perfume from 

The lily's bloom pass all the radiant hours. 

In all this life your touch has never thrilled 
The inmost pulses of my being, your voice 
Has never brought sweet music to 
My ears ; and yet, somewhere out in the world, 
I know you breathe, and long, and wait, as I 
Have waited, all the years. Sometime, somewhere, 
That day of all the days of time, that place 
Of all the places of earth, we two shall meet, 
Clasp hands, and with the meeting of our eyes 
Our souls shall know — the little stream shall come 
At last to rest into the open sea. 



23 



MARGARET 

From the hour I heard your voice 
There came for me no other choice, 

Margaret, 
Than to fall on knees before you, 
To worship and adore you, 

Margaret. 

There were roses in your hair, 
And the starlight gleaming there 
Fell o'er your face divinely fair, 

Margaret ; 
Your laughing eyes again I see, 
Turned in smiling glance to me, 
And my heart cries out to thee, 

Margaret. 

As the wave with ceaseless roar 
Breaks over all to reach the shore, 

Margaret, 
So my heart beats ever true. 
And my love dares all for you, 

Margaret. 



24 



LONG YEARS FROM NOW 

Shall we two stroll along this way, 

Long years from now, 
At the close of some summer's day, 

And wonder how. 
After life's hard and checkered years 

Of trial and pain. 
After the mist of smile and tears 

We two again 
Stroll hand in hand these old highways, 

And old-time joys 
Come back with thoughts of old-time days 

"When we were boys? 



25 



LIFE 

Life is like a garden of flowers, 

Dew- washed and newly sprung, 
And there 's fragrance in the sun-kissed bowers, 

When one is young. 

But the flowers all are sere and faded, 

The bowers lone and cold, 
The sunny walks are dim and shaded, 

When one is old. 



26 



ANGODEA 

Through all the years my love shall cry to you, 
Yet with a cry your heart can never know, 
And even known can never imderstand ; 
Just as we humans worship One above, 
And raise to Him our eyes in silent plea 
For higher aspirations of the soul, 
So in my heart I worship you. I love 
And yet I know that in the love alone 
Lies strength to strive to do the nobler work. 
But one dumb pressure of your hand, one last 
Deep look into your startled eyes, and this 
Must be the end. The love itself is that 
Which shall inspire ; the great desire but once 
Be gained and all is lost. 

You call my name 
As I turn away, and in your voice _^ 
Is all the bitter pain of endless nights 
That pass as years, and years that pass as nights ; 
The broken yearning of the heart that pulsed 
In love and trust, and with one bitter blow 
Is crushed forever. Life is dead to you. 
And in the silent dark your straining eyes 
Will see but phantom gleams from memories 
Of years that now will come no more. And I, 
My restless feet adrift in some far spot 
Out in the world, shall see the gleam and know, 
As you can never know, that this is best. 
27 



RECOMPENSE 

He stooped, while in the bloom of youth 's young pride, 
And placed his hand upon the little child's head, 
And smiled into its eyes, and kindly said: 

"God grant that joy in your young heart abide." 

Long years passed, and days of fame-bent toil 
Had left but dregs in the erstwhile sweet cup 
From which in youth he drank, eyes smiling up 

Into a dream-made land, sans earth turmoil, 

Wherein was found but hope, and love, and peace. 
Shattered ideals ! — And now, 'mid falling tears, 
The voice of him, the child of former years : 

"Old friend, your hand; your hardships all shall 
cease!" 



28 



AN OLD LETTER 

Old, tear-stained letter, worn and gray with age. 

Why come you to remind me of the past. 
And bring before my eyes the long-turned page, 

That, 'neath the cloud by Future 's promise cast, 
Had faded long and slipped from out my mind ; 

Why bring again the spell that bound of old, 
And dreams of years forgot and left behind. 

To wield with softened pain their former hold ? 

I can not think that we upon this earth 
Must rest and cast aside the things before, 

While in the gloom of Future 's coming birth 
We wait the end, and ask for nothing more ; 

For sorrow oft brings joy in later years. 

And present smiles reflect forgotten tears. 



29 



AFTERMATH 

We have drained Love's draught to the bitters, 

And the cup is empty and dry; 
For yesterday's hope and sweet longing 

To-day we have not one sigh. 

Our love seemed a beautiful, wonderful thing ; 

It was scarcely a year ago 
We played together in the Mystic Fields 

Where only sweet fancies grow. 

The daj^s were as bright in their passing 

As the sparkle of morning dew, 
And all that was good, and noble, and pure 

I dreamed, and called the dream you. 

And now your lips in the farewell kiss, 

Passive, and cold as clay, 
With not one spark of the passionate fire 

That burned but yesterday. 

where are the Mystic Fields we knew, 
The dreams that stirred the heart? 

And your slow, calm smile is the answer — 
How easily we drift apart ! 



30 



DEATH 

'Tis Death we say, or only Chance, 
That works this wonder with our souls ; 
Not Life, nor yet can it be Fate, 
For Life is clear and there can be 
No mystery with it, and Fate 
Holds sway o 'er all and masters none, — 
Black darkness sinks down as a pall, 
And strange, weird voices moan and shriek. 
And rise and fall, and rise again ; 
Then lightnings flash, and dazzling fire 
Turns all the black to fearsome white ; 
A blending of many colors, and 
Soft music in the air; a full. 
Clear clarion note, and throbbing hearts 
Sink quiet to rest ; a low-drawn sigh, 
A sleep, and deep, unbroken peace. 



31 



A SONG BY THE SEA 

I heard you sing a love song once, 

On the sands by the laughing sea, 
And the sound of your low, sweet, girlish voice 

Seemed music from heaven to me. 

The song was hushed and I saw you rise, 

A vision of purest white. 
While the pale moonshine 'round the gold of your hair 

Threw a halo of softest light. 

You paused a space and gazed out to the deep, 

And a faint sigh came to my ears, 
Soft and low as a whispering breeze. 

Breathing of sadness and tears. 

Then you were gone and I turned to the waves, 
And it seemed that they laughed no more; 

Moaning low as though fraught with pain. 
White foaming they broke on the shore. 



32 



THE BEACON 

In the western sky a star, 
Low over the tossing sea, — 
A maid with a light afar. 
Waiting at the shore for me. 

Crawling waves about my boat, 
My soul athirst for the fight, 
Alone on the deep afloat. 
Around me the circling night. 

In the distant night a star, 
A beacon across the sea, — 
A maid with a light afar. 
Waiting at the shore for me. 



33 



THE SILENT WATCHES 

At midnight, when all the house is quiet in sleep, 
And silently the shadows creep 
Across the floor; 
With the candle lowly, dimly burning. 

Then is your mind the day's work turning — 
Nothing more? 

Comes there to your heart no stillness and no sadness, 
Black fear that grips with hand of madness — 
No inward fright? 
Do you hear no lost voice in the silence calling, 
Grim cadence to the cold rain falling 
Out in the night? 

Close you then your eyes in calm and holy rest. 
No tearing conscience at your breast, 
No haunting face? 
Ah, thrice blessed you whose sleep is sweet, serene. 
Whose eyes no thronging shapes have seen — 
To God give grace! 



34 



TO ONE WHO SINGS 

A wondrous maid I knew in childhood dreams — 

A child in years, yet strange thoughts stirred my 
brain — 
Whose voice in rippling winds and babbling streams 

I heard, and with the hearing was a pain 
That boded of the long and dreary ways 

My feet must tread ere Fate should bring at last 
Her song to cheer and brighten all my days. 

And weave a glorious Future from the Past. 

'Twas thus I shrined her in my inmost heart, 
Where one but keeps a pure and high ideal; 

Yet scarce I hoped to find her counterpart 
In life, where all had seemed so dull and real. 

Till you I met, dear one, and then I knew 

That life, as well as dreams, was fair and true. 



35 



MOON-MAD 

She was young and bright and fair — 

Beauty's witchery! — 
He was gay and debonair, 

Down by the sea. 

The moonbeams clothed with softest light 

The pebbly shore; 
A little hand in his clasped tight, 

Sweet vows he swore. 

Another night and another man — 

What could she do? — 
While he held fast another hand — 

And so would you! 



36 



THE EYES OF THE WORLD 

'Twas that last night before I went away, 
Ready, I hoped, to meet the world. A night 
In June, I think, moonlit, and full of all 
The sweet, alluring fragrance of half-blown 
Roses. It stands out with the clearness of 
A sharp-drawn picture in my mind. Do you 
Remember? Years, and years, and years ago — 
So long that scarce I know if this be pain 
jM}' heart now feels, or but a memory. 
Half real, of pain known in some other age 
Long past. 

We stood among the roses, you. 
And I, that night, your head upon my breast, 
Your arms clasped close about my neck. You sobbed 
To me your promise so, though I had not 
Once asked the oath, your binding promise of 
Eternal faith. And then I went, and with 
Your kiss upon my lips I faced the world, 
Firm in my heart a great resolve to win 
A fame you would be proud to share. 

To-night 
I come again. How many years have passed 
I do not know — it matters little, that, 
The number be how great it may, you gave 



37 



To me your word. There is no middle course, 
You were my mate through all eternity; 
Your promise made you so. The sin is yours, 
And though the world will never call it that 
Before your God it stands the same. You call 
Yourself a wife, and yet you tell me with 
Your own false lips you never loved the man 
Whose name you bear. To-night you stand before 
My face and tell me that, and in your eyes 
I read an answer to the question of 
These years, an answer that should paint your brow 
"With crimson shame. 

Good-bye ; I shall not come 
Again. The sin is yours, I can not ask 
To share the blame. I shall not judge to-night; 
There is a God above who must do that. 
How deep you've wounded me you can not know. 
For my own pain I must bear all the fault ; 
I should have known that through these silent years 
No woman could have borne the trust. And yet 
To add the sin, and never know that it 
Be sin ; I could not foresee that. Good-bye ! 
May God in judging you, find in His great 
God-heart a pity that is not in mine. 



38 



FORSAKEN 

' ' Until by death we two shall part ! ' ' 
The vow you swore, and many years 
Have come and gone, and in their stead 
Remembrance brings but choking tears ; 
And now to-night the words you said 
Seem burned forever on my brain, — 
The words, your ring, the holy place. 
The longing, with the dull, deep pain. 
For but one look upon your face — 
And, oh, the breaking of my heart ! 



39 



A LA FRANCAISE 

Ho, waiter, bring the best you have, and quick 
About it, too — God's blood, these early hours 
Give one an appetite! — No, only I; 
Henceforth I take my meals alone, my friend 
Will come no more. How now, gape like a fool ! 
Be gone with you or I shall find the means 
To haste your lagging steps, you lazy knave. 
— At last he 's gone ; my breakfast should be here 
Anon. Last night my friend sat there, across 
From me, and we stayed long above our wine. 
A boon companion he ; for twenty years 
We sat just so, three times a day. Close friends 
Were we, no closer in the world I think 
Were ever found. But noAv he 's gone ; I shot . 
Him through the heart myself at dawn out in 
The Bois. A game at cards, a word, a blow^ — 
And after twenty years. He was my friend. 
Another such I'll never find. But there 
I see my waiter comes. Let us forget 
The past and look but to the business 
At hand. — This wine is good, upon my soul ! 



40 



ROSES 

1 care not for the roses, dear, 

For roses fade and die ; 
'Tis only for the memory, — 

June roses, you, and I. 

June roses, white, and pink, and red, 

Their perfume in the air, 
Roses in your cheeks, dear love, 

And roses in your hair. 

Roses — ah, the rose of your lips ! — 

Broken, the holiest ties ; 
Roses crushed at your breast, dear heart, 

Tears filling your eyes. 

He, your husband, saw the flowers. 

Crushed, and bruised, and torn; 
My friend cast one swift look on me. 

And his eyes flashed wondering scorn. 

wrj^y-^, " ■ : ' ^ '• ■ : "^ \ ^ i ; 

Roses, a basket of roses from you, 

I will place them here in the vase, 
And breathing their fragrance to-night, dear heart. 

Perhaps I shall dream of your face. 



41 



THE COTTAGE BY THE BAY 

Oh, I am weary, weary, weary 

Of the city's drowning roar, 
Of the striving and the straining, 

And the struggling evermore. 

I picture in my mind a country 

Where the sea rolls on the sand, 
Where in the sun bloom fragrant flowers, 

And joy fills all the land. 

Where the brook sparkles in the meadow, 

As it runs its rippling way. 
Where the vines cling to the old board fence 

'Eound the cottage by the bay. 

'Twas there my early days were spent, 

There I first learned to know 
The beauties of the land and sea 

As the seasons come and go. 

'Twas there my heart learned the old, old song. 
Ere my feet had learned to stray. 

The song of life and the joy of home. 
In the cottage by the bay. 

Oh, I am weary, weary, weary, 

And I long to go away. 
Back to the land my childhood knew, 

And the cottage by the bay. 
42 ' 



SONG OF THE AMERICAN 

A free man of a free race, 
A maker of law and a giver of life 
Am I, a lord who Miows no lord, 
A power and a guide unto myself! 

I stand upon the jutting height, 
Rearing my head in proud disdain, 
And gaze o'er all the land and sea, 
"While in my heart swells full 
The wild power of mastery. 
For, lo, I have conquered Nature, 
And all the world bows at my feet ; 
A lord of lords, a king of kings am I, 
A God who knows no higher God! 
Behold ! The gleaming bands of steel 
That bind the farthest ends of earth ; 
The mighty seas I've cowed, 
And whipped to calm to be my slaves ; 
The wrathful storm I hold within 
My hand; the death I deal at will 
To lesser men dare not touch me. 

A free man of a free race, 
A maker of law and giver of life 
Am I, a lord who knows no lord, 
A power and a guide unto myself! 



43 



TO A LADY 

Lilies and violets at your breast, 
White roses in your hair; 

Yet all the flowers that earth may send 
Can make you not more fair. 

Gowned in softly falling laces, 

Shod in daintiest white, 
With all that art can add to nature 

You stand before me to-night. 

Of this great globe that God created, 

Of all that man can do, 
The fairest thing on this fair earth 

Is you, dear heart, just you ! 



44 



TO D— W— 

We met — it was many years ago ; — 
A hand clasp, and our ways parted widely ; 
Yet there comes a memory, clear, distinct, — 
A firm pressure of fingers, and over all 
A bright face ; and the dreariness is fled, 
The sun bursts forth in newer glory, 
All things seem bright and fair again. 



45 



THE SONG OF THE BUCCANEER 

Come fare ye forth, my jolly lads. 

Come fare ye forth with me ; 
We're off for the land of the Southern sun, 

And the blue of the Southern sea. 

The blue of the Southern sea, my lads. 
And the glint of Spanish gold — 

Throw full the sail to the Southward breeze, 
As did Hawkins and Drake of old. 

As did Hawkins and Drake of old, my lads, 
With whom we swept the Main ; 

But though Drake is gone and Hawkins dead, 
We'll down the Spaniard again. 

We '11 down the Spaniard again, my lads, 
And we'll waste his stolen lands; 

For English brawn and English hearts 
Ne'er lost at Spanish hands. 

So hoist ye all the sail, my lads, 

Put out the ship to sea ; 
We're off again for the Spanish Main, 

And the spoil of victory ! 



46 



THE MISTRESS 

How now, what 's this 1 Your girl has come to say 
That you must needs see me before I start 
Upon my morning ride. And tears again ! 
What said I last when you came whimpering 
And fawning at my feet? You want to go 
Away ? By Christ ! I '11 teach you how to want 
To beg a crust before my door ere I 
Am done with you, you miserable jade. 
Have I not clothed you in the finest silks, 
Fed you at my own ducal board ; and this 
Is all ni}^ thanks ! What were you when I found 
You first? A drudge, an ill-reputed drudge 
With that. Your virtue — bah ! You prate to me 
Of virtue; you! 

Now wipe those tears ; 1 11 have 
No more of this. Ah, what ! You heard my words ? 
This whip would spoil the beauty of those white 
Shoulders of yours. You will not cease ? It seems 
I must teach you that v/hen I give commands 
They are commands, not mere requests. Oho ! 
You cringe beneath the lash ; no need to scream, 
For I am master here. 

Enough of this ; 
I shall return within the hour. See that 
By then you have removed those tear stains from 

47 



Your face, and mind you greet me with a smile 
When next I enter here. 'Twere well for you 
To learn that which you owe to me ere I 
Be forced to use the whip again. You'd best 
Look to those marks upon your shoulders, too ; 
In faith, they are not overpleasing to 
The sight. 

Almost an hour you've kept me from 
My ride. My word, if this occurs again 
You '11 not fail to remember well the day ! 



48 



TIRED 

Tired, so tired! 
Oh, place your hand upon my brow, 
And stroke away the throbbing pain ; 
I beg but this, just whisper now 
That you forgive and love again. 

Tired, so tired! 
Weary of all the aches that life 
Has left ; the love, so dearly bought, 
Flown for aye; and I, your wife, 
Ask but this, and you give naught. 

Tired, so tired! 
Ah, have you turned your face at last ? 
My eyes are dim, I can but weep; 
Forgive, forget the shameless past, 
But kiss me once, and let me sleep ! 



49 



THEN 

Dim lights will burn about you then. 
At your feet and at your head, 
And I 
'With softened step will come again, 
When they have told me you are dead. 

Those others then will yield me space, 
And she who was your love 
Will cry, 
And find no comfort and no grace 
In all the power of God above. 

A moment will I take the place 
Held in distant other days ; 
A sigh, 
And tears that smart upon my face 
Will name the price that treason pays. 



50 



TO S— F— B- 

Tis early morn ; the sun bursts warm and bright 
Above the dew-drenched fields, the clinging drops 
Flashing like precious gems among the shrubs; 
On high a filmy cloud floats lazily 
Across the languid blue ; an hundred birds 
Up in the tall oak trees trill joyous songs 
To celebrate the birth of this new day. — 
Let me but reach across the void, dear heart, 
And take your hand, and let us then go out 
Together in the world, and make in our 
Own lives a day in which shall ever shine 
The sun, a day in which shall ever trill 
The birds in bursts of pure and joyous song ; 
Let us e'er count the years as others count 
The hours, and in the thankful fullness of 
Our hearts but harbor peace, and trust, and love. 



51 



WHEN I AM DEAD 

When I have ended this farce of living, 
And the curtain falls, the last line said, 

I beg you, make no sham of giving 

Sympathy and flowers to wreath my head, 

For these will count but little then 
When I am dead. 

Place no stone above the heap 

Where lies all that remains of me, 
And waste no grief, however cheap. 

That curious ones may mocking see; 
When I shall die I wish no tears. 

No praying preacher, no weeping friend — 
T have steered the bark through living years, 

Dying, let me in peace face the end. 

I beseech, no inscription bold, 

No ''He rests in Christ" above my head — 
When I am gone the tale is told, 

I pray you, leave the prayers unsaid; 
Just bury me simply, then forget. 

When I am dead. 



52 



YESTERDAY 

Yesterday was it we met, 
And kissed, and parted ? — yet — and yet 
Cries out my heart to phantom gleams, 
Those other days, were they but dreams ? 

Back through the years I trace afar 
The silvery line of yesterdays. 
Each gleaming as a distant star. 
Shrouded in a misty haze. 

Yesterday — the waning light — 
Dear heart, we cannot kiss to-night ; 
But, oh, the memory and the pain — 
To meet, to kiss, to part again ! 



53 



ECHOES 

Through the night air, calm, serene, 
A sound, or an echo of a sound. 
Cleaves a trembling, quivering way, 

Like the dim ray 
Of an April sun, through rain-drops seen. 
As a moment it lights with fire the ground ; 

Then all is gray, 
With only a memory of the bright 
Tempering the gloom — as the echo at night. 

Far, far away. 

Is pain that is dug from graves of the past. 
And viewed again through the calm of years. 
Sweeter than joys of a latter day; 

And will Fate sway 
The grim sceptre forever, and blast 
The smiles of present with bitter tears 

Of another day? 
Still vibrant with the dull heart pain 
Answers only an echo again. 

Far, far away. 



54 



GOOD-BYE 

Good-bye ! I will not say farewell ; 
Who knows, we two again may meet, 
Long hence on some deserted road, 
Or on some city's crowded street. 

We've loved awhile in Life's green fields. 
We 've dreamed of trials met side by side ; 
Now comes to us this one sad word, 
'Tis here our paths at last divide. 

Give me your lips once more, dear heart, 
My voice is choked with bitter tears; 
God grant our lives may touch again 
Somewhere out in these coming years. 

We must not say farewell, ah, no ! 
Howe 'er our trembling lips may try ; 
The tears are wet upon your face. 
My own sweetheart — one kiss — good-bye ! 



55 



THE SONG OF THE SEA 

A flashing siin, a deep blue sky, 

And the booming of the sea ; 
From out the deep the sea breeze brings 

A song of cheer to me. 

The song of the throbbing waves. 
As they surge from shore to shore, — 

A changing song, a haunting song, 
Refrain to the deep sea roar. 

The song of a jolly sailor lad, 

Far out on the white-capped foam, — 

A pean of joy from a thankful heart 
At nearing the land called home. 

Oh, give me the sea in calm or storm, 

The heaving billow or the flashing spray, 

There let me dream, there let me dwell. 
There let me be on life's closing day! 



56 



HER LAST LETTER 

So this, then, is your letter, scarce the half 
Of a page ; a little thing, but sharp 
And to the point, — your ultimatum, so 
To speak. " It is the end, ' ' you write, very cold 
And crisp in all your style. ''No answer is 
Required. ' ' A useless warning, I may say, 
For what, forsooth, care I for this snub of 
A half-fledged girl? My lady thinks, perhaps. 
That I shall beg, and plead, and pray, and write 
Long pages of tear-dripping rubbish ; so ! 
She missed her mark for once ; I vow I see 
Not why I should disturb my mind with this. 
A scape-brained girl 's flrst fling at man, her dog ; 
Some day, I swear, she shall regret the deed. 
But in the while the fire burns bright, as if 
Desirous to destroy; a puff, and gray 
Ashes show what might have been. A fan. 
Of course, her letters too, a picture, and 
A glove — gray ashes, that is all. Well may 
I sigh ; the romance now is gone and this 
Is all that's left. Poof! Life is short, and sighs 
Are prone to spoil the appetite; besides 
The sea is large, and many fish remain 
LTncaught. Somehow, though, I have lost the sport 
That should be in the catching. Can this minx 
Of a girl have turned my head ? But, bah ! 
I grow a maudlin fool. Enough ; a flask 
Of wine to drown such weakling thoughts as mine ! 
57 



KATHERINE 

A smile that, flashing to your lips, 
Breaks glorious as the dawning day, , 
A voice whose rippling melody 
Rings sweeter than the songs of May, 
And the blue of your eye 
Is as deep as the sky 
That smiles forever above you; 
And, oh, how fair, your brow and your hair- 
I love you, I love you, I love you 1 



58 



SPURNED LOVE 

Because the heart's blood mounting to her brow 

Glowed like far-flaming Northern Lights; 
Because the beauty of her slender throat 

Shone white as snow-tipped mountain heights; 
Because the burning glory of her hair 

Burst on the sight like spun star-shine ; 
Because her melting eyes once smiled on me 

I swore that men should know her mine. 

Because I came on knees before her shrine, 

Begged leave to kiss her garments' train; 
Because in scorn she spurned me from her feet, 

Her eyes agleam with high disdain; 
Because of all the creatures of this earth 

She first had passed me lightly by; 
Because of this, her pride of self and birth, 

I swore to God that she should die. 

Because that hour when last we stood alone 

She hurled my words back in my face; 
Because she stood beneath my gleaming knife, 

And mocked in her stern pride of race; 
Because of all her charm of face and form. 

Her milk white throat, her high-flung head ; 
Because she crushed my heart and spurned my love 

She walks to-night among the dead. 



59 



A SONG OF AUTUMN 

let us away to the hills to-day, 

Just you and me, my dear; 
Away from the life of business strife, 

For Autumn again is here. 

A call in the air, and the sunlight fair 

Falls over the brooding hills; 
The lure of the wild holds me, Earth's child. 

In a grasp that quickens and thrills. 

let us away to the hills to-day, 

Just you and me, my dear, — 
Sunlight and love, trees whispering above, — 

For Autumn again is here! 



60 



SINCE NANCY AND I FELL OUT 

There ain't much sunlight in the sky, 
And things is sorter gloomy about ; 
Not cheerful like they ust to be 
'Fore Nancy and I fell out. 

It wasn't much to fuss about, 

Jest some little, triflin' thing, 

But somehow they's the kind that count, 

And alius leave the sharpest sting; 

She didn't like some girls I knew, 

I didn't like her buttin' in. 

And 'though them girls and me was through 

I wouldn't let her know it then; 

And so we had some hasty words, 

Which is jest how it come about 

On that black day in early June 

That Nancy and I fell out. 

We was both too proud to say fergit, 
Nor wouldn 't go 'round and pout ; 
But this old world's a lonesome spot 
Since Nancy and I fell out. 



61 



PORTA MORTIS 

''Sick unto death," he said, "with little hope 
To struggle back to life and health again ; 
The crucial point is passed; he'll sink slowly 
Now to the end." — Ah, well, 'tis better so! 
They fancied that I slept, and did not hear 
The doctor 's words ; just now they smiled into 
My face, and said that I would soon be well 
Again, that in a week I should have strength 
To quit this bed and go out in the streets. 
They have said so, and yet I heard his words ; 
The end has come. 

Each one has passed before 
Me now, vain hopes, wild fancies, fitful joys 
Of all these wasted years. And at the first 
Life held out promise of so much, the toil 
Seemed all so small compared to the reward. 
Burnt out ! Not one live spark remains of all 
That fire of youth, not one accomplished of 
The many tasks. The fitful fires, the vain. 
Wild deeds, they came and w^ent ; a w^ounded heart , 
Perhaps, to mark the tale. The friends of those 
Old wasted days now, too, are gone — all gone ! 
Even the pain within my heart is stilled 
To-night. 'Tis strange, this quiet that holds me now ; 
It was but yesterday I bitterly 



62 



Cried out against that which I might have been, 
And swore I w^oiild live yet to prove those first 
Great dreams reality. To-night the mood 
Has passed. I feel regret, and yet I do 
Not know if I would change one act of all 
This mis-spent life. Perhaps I did not know 
The price so fully then as now, but still 
I think I must have known it all the w^hile ; 
It pleased me not to try the waiting tasks, 
A life of self was more to my desire. 
Yet did not those who toiled but half the day 
Receive the same reward as those w^ho bent 
Beneath the task from da^vn of day till dark 
Of night? And I, who have not toiled at all. 
Shall I not be remembered on the last 
Great Payment Day ? There is no doubt within 
My soul to-night ; I am ready to face 
The Great Beyond, and in it all I find 
No fear. For what should I repent ? 

Just now 
I heard them whispering beyond the door. 
I hear the doctor's step again. I think 
The end will soon come now. I want to turn 
Away and sleep. My God, how tired I am ! 



63 



HEART'S RUE 

Shimmering moonlight over the garden, 

Whispering zephyrs overhead, 
In my ears the throbbing beat 

Of a prayer long unsaid. 

Fragrant flowers of the summer 
Pressed against my burning brow, 

My heart crying silence to the story 
My lips are telling you now. 

Shimmering moonlight over the garden, 
Sweet-flowing notes of the mock-bird 's song, 

My heart sobbing out the broken prayer, 
How long, how long, how long ! 



64 



THE PLAY GOD 

''Kiss me again before you go." 
Last night you asked me this, 
Thinking the depths of love to know 
In the transient passing of a kiss. 

Can love that means but sweet caresses 
Seem aught but play to one so young, 
"When light as the summer wind that presses 
The yielding meadow grass new-sprung 
Is your singing young heart to-day; 
The words spoken so soft and low — 
Is it all your love can find to say ? — 
"Kiss me again before you go." 

Love means much more than this, dear heart, 
Of tears, of bitter-sweet, and yet 
It is but fate that we must part; 
So kiss me once — and then forget ! 



65 



THE QUEST 

Ye olden times faire knightevS in thrice-tried maill 

Pricked forth to seeke with sword and trustie lance 
The boone of all the world, the Holie Graill, 

That none had found, yet should one finde, by chance, 
On him would fall the mantle of true fame, 

And honour that o 'er all the broade, faire earth 
Would carrie as a wave his glorious name. 

And bringe to Time another hero's birth. 

I set me once upon an arduous quest, 

Nor sword nor lance had T to fight my way. 

And from the journey's toil I sought no rest. 
But struggled on with newer hope each day ; 

And faithful yet to that resolve of youth, 

I seek, unfinding still, the quest of Truth. 



66 



THE RETROSPECTIVE HOUR 

It seems the fire is brighter than its wont 

To-night, and in the street the sounds are gay, 

Just as they were in other days, old friend; 

Come sit with me awhile and we will talk 

Of former times, those times when you and I 

Vied with the gayest of them all. Ah, those 

Indeed were careless days, and we drained life 's 

Red w4ne e'en to the dregs. But after all 

I wonder if the drink were worth the price 

We paid. Perhaps you think not of it as 

I do, for you lost not so much as I ; 

Your youth you squandered for a whim, and yet 

I think you were not ill-pleased with the price. 

But I lost more, just how much more not you 

Nor any other than myself can know. 

Somehow of late my thoughts turn oft to her, 

The beauteous, pensive, dark-haired Anne I loved 

So dearly in those other days. She was 

So pure I think the angels must have wished 

Her in her proper place in heaven ; that 

Is why she died. 'Tis strange that I should think 

Of her so often now that all these years 

Have passed; perhaps it is a warning that 

I, too, shall go ere long. I would it were, 

For life has grown a weary thing with all 

This dreary sameness. We have left now but 



67 



The shattered dreams of things that were and things 
That might have been, and these but sadden more 
The heart. This world I fear has changed a deal 
Since you and I were young, and we knew not 
The things that now are kno^vn. Sometimes I think 
'Twere best we'd never lived the years from then 
To now, and I had gone with Anne that day 
She left me for a better world. The time 
I feel draws near ; that forms my solace now. — 
The fire dies out, and I, perhaps, have kept 
You from some business that calls you hence. 
You have, perchance, some work to do elsewhere ? 
You have. I ask your pardon for the while 
I've kept you here. But you will come again? 
I thank you from my heart. These hours now form 
The only joys my life can know. Good-bye, 
Old friend, and may God keep you on your way. 



68 



HEARTS AND FLOWERS 

Withered flowers of the summer, 
Dead, and blown in the autumn breeze,- 
The tragedy of human life 
Is symbolised in these. 

Faded flowers of the heart, 
Hopes and dreams of another day, — 
The throbbing hurt of an endless pain 
To linger and haunt alway. 



69 



FORGET THEE 

Forget thee ! You ask that I forget thee, 
And smile through the veil of tears, 

Turn back forever and forget thee 
And dreams of vanishing years. 

Forget thee ! You say I must forget thee. 
And turn back at the parting ways ; 

Forget thee and the hope thou hast been to me 
All the length of life's clouded days. 

Forget thee, forgive and forget thee — 
Ah, God, you could not ask more ! — 

The heart thou hast crushed must forget thee, 
And remembrance of years before. 

Forget thee ! Ah, may my God forget me 
Should your image e 'er fade from my heart ! 

Forget thee ! My solace is thy memory 

Through the years that must hold us apart. 



70 



SHADY VALE 

I come again to the fork of the road, 

Where the sign-post stands by the way, 
And the farmer rests his team from the load 

At the close of the summer day ; 
And I turn aside at the foot of the hill 

In search for the weed-grown trail 
That leads across to Siler's Mill, 

And thence to Shady Vale. 

In sadness I tread the old, old way 

My feet once knew so well, 
When as a boy I came each day 

At the call of the school-house bell. 
But, ah, the change that time has wrought 

In the passing of the years ; 
Then there was joy in the battle unf ought. 

Now I return with tears. 

The mill-dam's gone, and the waters flow 

No more o'er the broken wheel; 
In the basin beneath now rank weeds grow 

Where once, with pole and reel, 
I fished for the furtive perch. Ah, me ! 

I turn my steps in haste ; 
Of the scene I once so loved to see 

Remains but waste, but waste! 



71 



Shady Vale of my childhood days, 

How changed in the flight of the years ; 
But a memory left of the old-day ways, 

With the bitter of new-day tears ; 
But a memory rooted deep in the heart, 

That calls to the silent waste, 
And life can answer the cry no part 

In the whirl of the new-day haste. 



72 



A QUESTION 

When at last I come back to you, 
On some long hence future day, 

Will you forget the pain I've caused you 
All the years I've been away? 

Sick to death of painted fieshpots, 
Weary of the world's dull roar, 

Will you take me back and love me 
As you loved me years before ? 

Will you meet me at the doorway. 
With a welcome in your arms, 

Heal the wounds that life has sent me 
With the balm of love 's sweet charms ? 



73 



THE ETERNITY MOMENTS 

A moment and an eternity! 

A moment while the fallen Prince 

Of Heaven, the mighty Apollyon, 

Out-cast from the King's rich-chambered court, 

In mid air hovered the space of the flash 

Of the bolt that rent the stars apart, 

And hurled through limitless void 

The once famed Prince of God's first choice, 

With his treason-dyed cohorts clustering 'round ; 

A moment as time is marked by men, 

But an eternity of God's great dreams 

Of world peace wrecked and ruined. 

And a Heaven spoiled to form a Hell! 

A moment while our Saviour hung 
'Twixt life and death on the blood-stained Cross, 
And gazed below, and sadly said : 
' ' Forgive ; they know not what they do ; " 
A moment as men count the flight 
Of time as hour swift flies to day, 
And days are lost in centuries ; 
Yet in itself an age of ages, 
An eternity for souls, else lost, 
That, hovering near the flame-red pit 
And heeding the roar of the death beneath. 
Burst through the shadow of the bright, 
Everlasting glory of immortal life. 
74 



REMEMBRANCE 

Oh, the warm, red blood of your brow, dark crowned, 
And the deep, warm glow of your midnight eyes ; 

Desire of the soul, hearts meeting abound. 
And the shimmering light of sunset skies. 

Flowers blooming, and fragrant, and blown, 
The quest of the world at your heaving breast, 

Your white arms circling love 's one throne, 

And the wine of the heart at our lips close pressed. 

Blushing beauty of the half -blown rose, 

Passionate mingling of summer's rich bloom — 

Dead and cold as drifting snows, 

And the pale nodding lilies over your tomb. 



75 



TO JUELLE 

To hold with men the helm of State, 

And gain the praise of the world ; 
To wield the pen of love and peace, 

When the flag of war is furled ; 
To strive to win a hero's fame, 

And the honors of life pursue — 
These are the things ambition calls, 

But my heart cries out for you. 



76 



CHRISTI MUNDI 

She fled on through the rain-swept streets. 
Her loosened garments wet and torn, 

The dark hair hid her shoulders' gleam, 
Her hard, hot eyes flashed burning scorn. 

I followed close upon her steps, 
Silent and swift as the eagle flies ; 

I caught her where the lights were dim, 
My hot-pressed kisses stopped her cries. 

She fought against my panting heart 
As tigers fight before they die. 

Till when she drooped upon my breast, 
Drooped, and yielded with a sigh. 



He who raised the Magdalene, 

And smiled into her weeping eyes, 
Feeling the great God-heart cry out 

Against that mad-made sacrifice, 
Spoke then no word of him who forced 

Woman beneath such shame to bow — 
But those who stood anear saw flame 

A God's great wrath from that high brow 



77 



THE PRAYER OF THE VANQUISHED 

The years have passed, we 've heard the call, 
Sharp pain has furrowed deep the brow ; 
The goal is lost, we know the fall — 
Lord God, heed Thou our prayer now ! 

We've done our work as best we kneAV, 
We've met the toil with all our strength, 
And if we failed we can 't undo — 
Thy mercy, Lord, for the intent! 

The victors move across the plains. 
Their banners from the fields depart; 
We cry to Thee from out the chains — 
Thy aid, O God, to the vanquished heart ! 



78 



DEAR HEART YOU KNOW 

Why the world shines bright in the east 's first light 

And the blush of the morn 's soft glow, 
Why the whole day seems but a splendor of dreams. 
Dear heart, you know. 

Why the toil of the day is a joy and a play, 

And I laugh as I face the foe. 
Why the burden of life has with it no strife, 
Dear heart, you kaow. 

Why I sing a gay song, though the way be long, 

And tarry not as I go. 
Why life 's dim years hold no shadowy fears, 
Dear heart, you know. 



79 



THE TRAMP 

Life once held the same black draught 

To the lips of you and me, 
We trod the same rock-strewn path 

In the years that used to be. 

To-night you are dead beside the road 
Died drunk — 'tis the wage of sin! 

I watch beside the lowering fire, 
And the cold dawn creeps in. 

Wet, and worn, and weak with hunger,— 
The day comes, chill and damp, — 

Scorned of man and cursed of God ; 
And this — 'tis the life of the tramp ! 



80 



ADRIENNE 

Shy, timid hue of violets, 
Deep azure of summer skies, 

Fade and vanish 'neath the spell 
Of the tender blue of your eyes. 

Gay brilliance of the midday sun, 
Bright gold of the lightning flare. 

Each shows again its softest tints 
In the glory of your hair. 

Sweet songs that are sung in Heaven, 
By the angels of God's first choice. 

Would ring far sweeter and purer 
For the melody of your voice. 

Were there no whisper of hereafter, 
Were the world begun anew, 

I would enshrine in my soul a deity, 
And my God would be only you. 



81 



A PAINTED PICTURE 

On the page you stand out sweet and clear, 

A face like one oft sees in fitful sleep, — 
So far, so dim, and yet so wondrous near! 

Your veiled eyes — I fancy tender, deep — 
Turn not to meet or shun my ardent glances. 

Your lips compressed, a half smile lingers there, 
As if your dream were made of sweetest fancies, 

Golden tinted as your blowing hair. 

You are a picture on a painted page, 

A face elusive as a summer dream. 
Piquant as a maid of a vanished age, 

And rare as the glory of a rainbow's gleam; 
I gaze at your beauty, and muse as I see 
On the things that are not and can never be. 



82 



THE SUMMER GIRL 

To you, fair maid of summer days, 
To you I raise this brimming glass, 
I drink to you, yet well I know 
Your image, in the months that pass, 
"Will fade but to an afterglow 

Of smiling eyes 

And moonlit skies 

Of other years. 
We Ve reached the parting of the ways, 

The wine is gone. 

The sparkle flown — 

Where are the tears? 



83 



THE BREAKING OF A HEART 

There is a stillness through the world to-night, 

A deep and pulsing silence, almost as 

Heavy, oppressive, and unbearable 

As shrieking pandemonium let loose; 

I hear the heavy beating of my heart 

Echoing through the dim and ghostly room ; 

The lamp, turned low, throws writhing shadows in 

The dark and gloomy corners, serpentine. 

And horrible to look upon ; outside 

'Tis quiet as death. The breeze which moaned an hour 

Ago among the trees is hushed and fled, 

As though affrighted at the aspect of 

This vast and sleeping world of phantom horror. 

Just now I miss you more, dear one, than e'er 
Before in all these days we two have been 
Apart; to-night my heart cries out against 
This bitter fate that holds us each from each, 
And for one hasty deed brands deep into 
My soul the darkest words of haunting pain 
That life can know, "Never again !" Ah, that 
You were but dead to-night, and I, with eyes 
That ached and throbbed with burning tears unshed 
Were kneeling by your bier, and crying out 
The endless ravings of a broken heart 
Unto a God who heeded not ; ah, that 



$4 



This drear world's sorrows all were heaped upon 
My head, and I were sinking underneath 
The agonizing load into the jaws 
Of hell itself — God, anything but this ! 

The wind is rising in the trees without, 
And, ghostlike, clutches at the window sash, 
In deep and solemn cadence moaning through 
The night. 

The bitter-sweet of memories 
That will not die, oh, how they haunt the gloom ! 
Dear one, could we but reach far out across 
The 3^ears to-night, forgetting all the hard 
And bitter past, clasp hands, and turn once more. 
The light of love awake within our hearts. 
To fight life's dreary battles all anew, — 
But this one little thing, the miracle 
Of love, and yet, oh God, how much I ask ! 



85 



WORMWOOD 

Soft, pulsing music in the air, 
Sweet fragrance of the summer night ; 
Our wild embrace, your falling hair — 
And this we called love 's pure delight ! 

Your eyes pleading into my eyes, — 
Did stars seem clearer there above? — 
Dumb, clinging lips the heart's replies — 
And this we called God 's boon of love ! 

A love that called for touch of lips, 
A love that called for clasp of hand — 
Tell me, ye who have launched your ships, 
Why find they not the Mystic Land? 



86 



A MODERN KNIGHT-ERRANT 

I found a romance of a long gone age 

Some careless hand had torn and cast aside, 
And as I turned each worn and time-stained page 

It seemed to me those days had never died, 
Those golden days of chivalry and love 

When Honor's flag was never stained or furled, 
And for the token of a fair one's glove 

Brave knights rode forth to strive with all the world. 

I am no knight, dear one, of olden time, 

Nor have I quest to seek for your sweet sake ; 

I bring to you but this, a poor-wrought rhyme. 
That with my heart I beg in pity take; 

For 'though the olden glory long is past, 

There still is love, and love shall ever last. 



THE TALE I LONG TO TELL 

Sweeter than the music of the dawning day, 

Than the chime of a silver bell, 
Sweeter than the sweetest songster's lay 

Is the tale I long to tell. 

Soft are the winds of the dreamy spring, 
As they moan through vale and dell, — 

Sweeter even than the songs they sing 
Is the tale I long to tell. 

Precious is the boon of the fame that will live, 
The friend who loves you well, — 

Yet dear as they are, all would I give 
For the tale I long to tell. 



THE ULTIMATE PEACE 

As pilgrims, weary, parched with thirst, 

Adrift on Persia's burning sands, 
When life ebbs low sink down to die. 

And raise to God their withered hands; 
With lips black swollen, burnt and dry 

Rend the heavens with strange, weird cries, 
And moan and sway till at coming day 

Each turns his face to the morn and dies : 

So I with weary, blundering step 

Yield now and sink beside the way, 
While the stars rush out in the blue above. 

And hurrying night brushes by the day ; 
I raise my hands, with toil worn thin. 

And feebly call to One on high, 
While a hallowing peace descends to my soul. 

And bright in hope, I, too, can die. 



S9 



RENVOI 

At that still hour before the day 
While on my sleepless couch I lay, 

Bitterly alone, 
An angel came beside my bed, 
Smiled, and gently touched my head. 

And silently was gone. 

Then to my heart came low the call. 
Clear, insistent, changing all, 

'Twas mine to spurn or take it : 
' ' Why look upon the ancient score ? 
Nothing is finished, hope lies before. 

And life is what you make it!" 



90 



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